


The parts they don't put in books

by Nary



Category: Diablotin
Genre: Adultery, Corsetry, Dancing, Debauchery, F/M, Infidelity, Misunderstandings, Oral Sex, Reading, Seduction, Tests, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-13
Updated: 2011-04-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 00:26:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a week before Sydona's twenty-first birthday. Some girls her age would be planning parties, going to balls... she was stuck at home with three children already.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The parts they don't put in books

It was a week before Sydona's twenty-first birthday. Some girls her age would be planning parties, going to balls... she was stuck at home with three children already. Well, that wasn't _quite_ true. The nursery-maids kept the children occupied, so she hardly had to see them - today, they'd gone out for a walk in the Firefly Gardens, two maids pushing the prams for the little ones and another holding Jarvis by the hand. She'd watched them go from her bedroom window and felt nothing but a vaguely wistful emptiness.

She made her way to the library, thinking to pass the time in reading. Sydona had read every book in the house already, some of them twice. It hadn't taken very long - her husband Darion had boxed many of them up for transport to their estate in the countryside. Most of them were boring tomes about physics and engineering anyway, apart from a few novels she had bought with her own pocket money. She chose one of those, which she remembered as having some rather exciting parts with a dashing highwayman, and, after moving the lacquered screen to block the draft from the window, settled in to read.

The book wasn't as good as she remembered. It was exciting when the highwayman carried off the countess, but it didn't describe much of what happened afterwards, and she couldn't imagine why the lady would be so eager to stay with him the next morning when she'd fought him so fiercely the night before.

She must have dozed for a time, because she was awakened by voices in the room. "Go on, leave me be," said a woman - one of the chambermaids, the red-haired one, Sydona thought, her mind still foggy from sleep.

"No one's about," a man protested. "So why not?"

"Because I'm working," the maid protested, but she didn't sound like she really meant it. Her voice was light, playful even.

"Come on, a little break won't hurt," he wheedled. Sydona was torn between getting up and making her presence known and staying hidden behind the screen, where she might escape notice (and embarrassment).

The maid gave a little shriek, and they both laughed. Sydona risked a peek between the panels of the screen, trying to see what was happening. The young fellow - the new coachman, she thought, catching a glimpse of his straw-coloured hair - was leaning the maid against the wall. A clatter indicated that the girl had dropped her duster. Evidently her hands were busy elsewhere, though Sydona couldn't quite see what they were doing. The couple were kissing, she could tell that much, though her view was somewhat blocked by a bookshelf. "Just let me in..." she heard the coachman say, his breathing heavy and quick.

"No," the maid gasped, "It isn't safe..."

The man groaned, frustrated. "Cocktease," he called her, and "slut," which seemed like the opposite to Sydona. The whole thing was very confusing to her.

"Oh, don't be like that," the maid told him, cajoling him. "We can still have fun." She did something that made the young man groan in a different way. Sydona pressed her eye to the screen once more, and caught a glimpse of the girl doing something with her hands...

Now the coachman was the one leaning against the wall, and his head was tipped back, mouth open and gasping for air, while the maid stroked his manhood. It seemed surprisingly large to Sydona's wide-eyed gaze, and she wondered if that was why the girl hadn't wanted him to put it inside her, if she was worried it would hurt. He had a hand under the maid's skirts as well, though she couldn't see what he was doing to her down there. She was shocked that they could be carrying on like this in broad daylight, and not even in a bedchamber but standing against a wall, where someone might see them! And they both seemed to want it so very much... and the sounds they were making, breathless and urgent... Her cheeks burned crimson as she put a hand over her mouth to stifle any sound that would interrupt them. Certain passages in her novels were beginning to seem a good deal clearer to her.

The couple worked quickly, and in a few minutes' time they were straightening their clothing as if nothing had happened. "Will I see you tomorrow?" the maid asked hopefully as they left the room, but Sydona couldn't hear what, if anything, the coachman answered. Still blushing furiously, she waited another quarter hour before leaving the room herself. That night, as she tried to sleep, she kept imagining the scene over and over again, though sometimes instead of the red-haired chambermaid it was the lady of the house that the coachman was pleading with, her skirts he was fumbling under... She found little rest that night, and drifted through the next few days in a daze.

One morning, a letter arrived from her husband. She read his dull accounts of financial matters and his latest inventions absently, until she reached the end. "I apologize for not including a little something for your upcoming birthday," Darion wrote, "but you ought to celebrate despite my absence. I have instructed my bank to disburse a small sum so that you might buy yourself something nice." He signed all his letters with 'sincerely yours', never 'love'. Something nice. She pondered what she might want. A new hat, perhaps, and some gloves... maybe there would be enough left over for a novel or two. She found herself entertaining idle thoughts of something racier, though she didn't know where she'd even find such a book... if it was even a book she truly wanted.

That afternoon, she called for the carriage to take her out shopping. After a stop at her husband's bank - the 'small sum' he had told them to give her was actually quite ample - she made her way to the most fashionable modistes' shops on Lark Row, just at the edge of the Grand. She looked longingly at the ballgowns in the window of one shop, all with the new hooped petticoats that held their skirts out so wide, but she knew she'd have nowhere to wear such a ridiculous confection. She was about to turn and go to her usual hatmaker's, when a girl coming out of the modiste's with an armful of boxes bumped into her.

"Oh, excuse me!" She was about Sydona's age, with honey-brown hair that bounced in unruly curls to her shoulders. Sydona thought she looked familiar, and tried desperately to place her. "Mlle. Trueblood, isn't it?" the young lady asked. No one had called Sydona that since she was sixteen, which meant this must be someone who had known her before she was married.

Suddenly it came to her - the Chancellor's youngest daughter, Elena vak Andras. They'd last seen one another at Sydona's coming-of-age party. "Mlle. vak Andras," she greeted her, relieved to have found the correct name just in time.

"Are you doing some shopping?" Elena asked, then continued before Sydona could get a word in edgewise. "I've just picked out the most delicious gown, I'm so terribly excited! I believe I shall wear it to Surryks tomorrow night."

"Oh, I was just thinking about a new bonnet," Sydona said, feeling horridly envious of this carefree girl who went out to dancehalls and wore gowns that could be described as 'delicious'.

"A bonnet? Oh no, you must find something more enjoyable than that!" Elena passed her parcels to the waiting footman, who began loading them atop the carriage. "You would look simply divine in the red gown they have in there, it would set off your colouring to perfection. Or at least some new gloves, or a fan - something to catch a gentleman's eye!"

Sydona had caught a gentleman's eye once, and it had done her little good. But Elena was taking her by the hand and drawing her into the shop whether she willed it or not.

The room would have been spacious, were it not jammed with customers and shopgirls and dressmakers' forms and great bolts of fabric. Elena was chattering about the new styles, but Sydona could barely hear her over the din. Her eye was drawn to a red satin gown on a dressmaker's form. It was cut low across the shoulders and bosom, with quite short sleeves, and a huge, full skirt, no doubt supported by hoops beneath. "You see," Elena was saying, "that's the one I was talking about. You ought to try it on, it would look absolutely splendid on you!"

"Oh, I couldn't," Sydona murmured, but she couldn't stop looking at it either. She plucked hesitantly at the fabric of the skirt, and almost instantly one of the shopgirls was at her side, inviting her attention to the quality of the material, the lace, the stitching... Before she knew what she was doing, she was being helped out of her plain daydress and into the ballgown.

Elena clapped her hands. "And it fits you so well already! A few teensy alterations and it will be perfect! You simply must buy it, and wear it tomorrow night to Surryks with me."

The seamstress pinned the waist and bodice a little more closely, and told her that the necessary changes could certainly be made by tomorrow afternoon, milady, if she would care to have someone pick it up then? Sydona had no idea if she could afford the gown or not, but she nodded anyway, and the deal was done.

As they left the shop once more, Elena clasped her hands. "It was simply wonderful to run into you again, Mlle. Trueblood. I _will_ see you tomorrow night, won't I?"

"Of course," Sydona replied, feeling more than a little dazed. "At Surryks?" She had never been to the celebrated ballroom, but she had certainly heard of it.

"That's right. Do you have a young gentleman who will be escorting you?" Elena added with a giggle as her footman helped her into the carriage.

Sydona thought of her husband, and shook her head. "No, no young gentleman."

"Well, if you have no suitors at present, that gown will soon put an end to that, I'll wager! Shall I call for you at eight?"

She suddenly dreaded the thought of telling Elena she was married, or having to give her address, which would surely reveal her state. "I'd be delighted to accompany you, Mlle. vak Andras, but may I call for you instead?"

"Oh, but of course. Until tomorrow, then!" she said, waving from the carriage window as the driver flicked his reins and the horses set off.

Sydona returned to her own carriage, bemused but feeling unexpectedly excited about the prospect of her new gown, and of having somewhere to wear it.

The following afternoon, she sent one of her maids to pick up the altered gown, and then spent far more time than she normally did on having them do her hair and apply her lotions and perfumes before attempting to put on the thing. The gown did look impressive once it was on, she had to admit, though it took her several tries to learn how to sit down without having the skirt flip up shockingly at the front, and her shoulders felt quite exposed. She found a light wrap to cover herself with before she left, telling herself she could leave it in the cloakroom at the ball.

The children were just being put to bed as she prepared to depart, and she gave them absent-minded kisses as the nurses dutifully presented them, clean and scrubbed and sleepy, for her blessings. Her thoughts were elsewhere.

The clocks struck eight as she waited in the hired carriage she had engaged (not wanting her own staff to know where she was going) outside the vak Andras estate. She waited anxiously for Elena to appear. She was just beginning to think that perhaps it had all been a cruel joke of some sort when finally the girl came down the steps in a rush and clambered into the cab with a breathless excitement.

Elena made no apologies for her tardiness, but did lavish effusive praise over Sydona's gown, her hair, and her complexion, which made her feel somewhat reassured. She herself was in a vibrant teal gown trimmed with gold, and to Sydona's relief she had also draped a wrap over her bare shoulders. Her hair was tied back in a chignon with a few curls left hanging loose to frame her face, which Sydona thought very elegant. Her own hair would not hold a curl, and so instead her maids had braided it and looped it the way she had worn it at her wedding five years before, which now seemed worrisomely out of fashion, despite Elena's kind words about how pretty it looked.

They drew up at Surryks at half-past eight. Through the brightly-lit windows, Sydona could see into another world, one where couples danced together, laughed, enjoyed themselves. The music that reached her ears was faint but lively. The cab-driver asked if they would like him to wait, and Sydona looked to Elena, uncertain. "No, that's fine," Elena said carelessly, "we can hire another one for the trip home, there are always plenty waiting about." She grinned and took Sydona's arm as they made their way to the door.

Inside it was much noisier, and the entryway was bustling with people, servants as well as guests. Elena insisted on paying both of their entry fees, despite Sydona's protests, and then whisked them off to the ladies' cloakroom to set aside their wraps and make a few last minute adjustments to their gowns and hair. Fortunately, there were mirrors on the wall for just such eventualities, and soon Elena pronounced them quite suitable to appear in public.

The ballroom sparkled with bright lights and youthful energy. Elena seemed to know everyone by name, and had to greet each one in turn. Sydona hung back, overwhelmed by the sights and sounds, and only nodded politely when Elena introduced her to one friend after another. "Mlle. Trueblood has been in the countryside of late," she heard her tell several people, and made no effort to contradict the girl's assumption. Her attention wandered, taking in the glitter of the jewels (she felt self-conscious for having worn no earrings or bracelets, but only a simple necklace), the graceful sweep of the dancers' skirts (she was uncertain of the new steps) and the buzz of witty conversation (she felt as if all words had flown from her mind).

"Why M. Talavera, of course I shall introduce you to my friend," she heard Elena say with a giggle, and turned her eyes back in time to see a handsome gentleman - exceedingly handsome, in truth, tall, broad-shouldered, trim-waisted, and with thick black hair and remarkable violet eyes - approaching her.

He bowed, and took her hand when she offered it nervously. "Mlle. Trueblood, this is M. Alestin Talavera," Elena said. "He is the son of the Duke and Duchess of Wray, and a complete and utter scoundrel," she added with a grin.

Alestin seemed unfazed by her accusation, but smiled as well. "Enchanted, mademoiselle," he said, kissing her hand. Even though she wore gloves, she could imagine the touch of his lips against her skin, and it brought a blush to her cheeks. "I find it hard to believe I've missed meeting such a beauty. Have you been here before?"

"I've been in the countryside," she said, the lie coming to her lips with unexpected ease.

"Ahh, then their loss is our gain," he replied, smiling in a way that made her knees feel strangely unsteady. "Shall I have the pleasure of dancing with you later?" From behind him, Elena was nodding to her vigorously, so she nodded as well. "Splendid," he said, and bowed again before departing.

Elena sidled up to her. "What did you think?"

"He's... quite handsome," Sydona admitted.

"Oh yes, insufferably so." Elena sniffed. "I wasn't fibbing when I said he was a scoundrel, though."

Sydona's thoughts drifted to rakish highwaymen. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, because he is! You've only to look at him to know that some girls will just fall at his feet, and he's perfectly willing to take advantage of them when they do. Trust me, I've known him forever, and he's always been like that. We're _practically_ family."

"Practically?"

Elena shrugged. "Oh, if you go back a few generations, I'm sure we're related, but more than that, our parents are good friends, so we all but grew up together. He's _quite_ incorrigible, and will make some poor girl a terrible husband one day." Elena sounded more fond than cross, though.

Sydona bit her lip. "Have you... that is, are you... are _you_ enamoured of him?"

"Why, Mlle. Trueblood, how bold of you!" Elena said with a sly smile and flick of her fan. "When we were younger, perhaps we occasionally disported ourselves together. And I admit to finding him... appealing, as any woman with an ounce of feeling might. But I would be quite a fool to love him, I should think. It would only lead to heartbreak."

"Oh," said Sydona, trying to puzzle out what that might mean. "But you aren't presently involved?"

"Not at all! We are good friends only. By all means, you have my blessing if you wish to dance with him – or anything else," she added with a giggle.

Sydona was sure her blush would be obvious. "Very well," she replied, trying to sound worldly and sophisticated and just a little bored, "I shall dance with him, and see how things go from there."

Alestin proved an excellent partner, so that Sydona hardly had any trouble despite not having danced in some years, and not knowing the new forms and steps. Overcoming her shyness, she accepted invitations to dance with a handful of other gentlemen afterwards, but none she liked so well as him. She saw that Elena danced with him as well, and they glanced in her direction more than once. She wondered whether they talked of her, then chided herself for her foolishness. It would be too much to expect that he would spend his time with a childhood friend, perhaps even a former lover, talking of a woman he had only just met.

She did not know how late the dancing would usually continue. It was drawing near to midnight when Elena took her arm once more. "You must be getting tired," she said. "Are you ready to go?"

"I suppose so," Sydona admitted half-heartedly. The crowds were growing thinner, as people had begun to depart, though the music and dancing continued unabated. It had been an exciting evening, the kind she had so often dreamt of, and she was reluctant to let it come to an end, but she _was_ growing weary. She let Elena lead the way to the ladies' cloakroom to collect their wraps.

Outside, the night air was chill, despite the crowds of people milling about. As Elena had predicted, there were numerous cabs about, but the nearest ones were all engaged already. They were just about to walk down to the end of the row and see if any there were free when a carriage drew up and Alestin Talavera leaned out the window. "Are you in need of a ride, ladies?"

Elena grinned. "Oh, that would be so much more convenient, thank you!" She turned to Sydona, under the pretence of adjusting her wrap. "If that's all right with you?"

Sydona knew it was a little bit daring to accept a gentleman's offer of a ride in his carriage, especially one with such a reputation as Alestin seemed to have. But she didn't want to seem rude or worse, unsophisticated. And surely nothing untoward would happen with both her and Elena there... "It's fine," she said, trying to seem nonchalant. "We would very much appreciate it, thank you, M. Talavera." She could have him drop her off somewhere nearby and walk the rest of the way home if need be, so they wouldn't know where she truly lived.

Alestin hopped down to help them, lending a hand as they clambered into the carriage, trying not to step on their skirts or tumble indecorously. Finally the three of them were settled into the comfortable leather seats, Elena and Alestin on one side, and Sydona across from them – the width of the ladies' skirts would not permit them to sit side-by-side. It was close quarters, and no matter how Sydona kept her feet modestly tucked under the seat, she felt as if she was in the way – their ankles kept touching each time any of them moved.

Elena and Alestin made small talk, discussing people they had seen at Surryks that evening, who had worn what and danced with whom, names Sydona hardly recognized. She looked out the window, watching the lights of the city pass by them. They were headed toward the river, away from her home – she realized she hadn't given Alestin's driver an address. Perhaps they were taking Elena home first? She tried to think of a way to ask where they were going without seeming impolite.

Alestin drew a flask from a pocket inside his jacket and offered it to Elena, who took it with a slight giggle. She swallowed some of its contents and then held it out to Sydona. She hesitated a moment, but with both of them looking at her, she felt she had little choice but to accept it. The liquor burned her throat only for a moment, then spread through her body with a delicious warmth. She took another sip and then a third, feeling delightfully naughty, and then handed it back to Alestin, who finished it off and tucked it away again in his pocket. "Shame, it's all gone."

"You know," Elena said playfully, "we could stop in for a little drink at your house, if we wanted."

"Of course, " Alestin replied graciously. "My parents are in the country for the week, so no one would disturb us." He knocked on the roof of the carriage and gave the order to the driver.

"Oh," Elena said, almost as an afterthought, "I hope that's all right with you, Sydona. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, of course not," she said as cheerfully as she was able, despite the nervous fluttering in her stomach. "I'm sure it will be delightful."

The carriage turned a few moments later and began making its way up a tree-lined drive. She peered out the window uncertainly, catching her first glimpse of the Talavera estate through the trees. It was a grand manor house, much larger than Sydona's husband's family home, but then, the Talaveras were known to be exceedingly wealthy, even though it was said that Alestin's mother had been disowned by her family when she'd married his father. Sydona wasn't certain what was so very awful about the match, and thought it would be impolite to ask at this juncture.

They pulled to a stop in front of the house, and Alestin got down to help the ladies out of the carriage. They walked together up the staircase to the doors, Sydona on one arm and Elena on the other. The servant who opened the door for them gave a polite curtsey but otherwise paid them little attention, as if this was not an unusual occurrence in the household . "This way," Alestin said, and led them down the corridor to what was obviously a gentleman's study. He opened the shuttered lamps part-way, casting a modest amount of light into the chamber. It was lined with old books and had a couple of chairs and a settee in front of a fireplace. The smell of cigar smoke and leather was omnipresent. Alestin strode to a glass-fronted cabinet full of bottles, and threw it open. "What can I get you?" he asked. "We have just about everything."

"Guignolet," Elena said, after considering her choices. "But mix it with some water so it's not too sweet."

"I could mix it with some whiskey so it's not too sweet," Alestin suggested with a smile. "But that would be a poor use of my father's good whiskey." He made her the drink as requested, then turned to Sydona.

"I'll have the same," she said, uncertain what to choose. The drink he presented her with was red and heady and tasted of sweet cherries. Sydona perched on the settee alongside Elena to sip it slowly, while Alestin took a seat in one of the armchairs with his own drink.

"You know, if you get tipsy I'll have to invite you to stay the night," Alestin said with a smile that made Sydona's knees tremble. "It would be irresponsible to send you home in such a condition."

Elena chuckled. "I could tell Father I came home with you, Sydona, and you could tell your parents you paid me a visit after the ball. We wouldn't get into trouble that way."

Sydona's parents weren't who she was worried about, but she nodded anyway. If she didn't come home, she didn't think the servants would start to worry before morning in any case, and she would surely be back in time to prevent them calling for the guards... "That would work," she agreed, trying to sound casual, as if she slept over at gentlemen's houses all the time. "I think I would like that."

"Oh, I'm sure you will," Elena said with a teasing smile. "I told you Alestin was amusing, didn't I?"

"Have you two been talking about me behind my back?" he asked, as if he might be affronted. "What has this little minx been telling you, Sydona? Nothing bad, I hope."

"Oh, no," she said, blushing despite her efforts not to, "nothing bad! She said you were handsome and charming and that I had her blessing if I wanted to dance with you. Or...or anything else," she added, feeling very daring.

Alestin laughed. "How very generous of her to offer me up!"

"I'm not greedy," Elena said with a sniff. "I could hardly keep him all to myself, could I, even if I wanted to. Which I don't."

"I'm surprised that you would want to be here, even so," Alestin said, setting his drink down on the side table. "You won't get jealous, will you, El?"

"Have I ever?" she asked carelessly. "I'm just curious to see how you behave."

"You want to watch? Or join in?"

"I think I'll just watch," she said, with a haughty dignity.

"Am I putting on a show for you, then, hm?"

Elena made no reply to that, turning to Sydona instead. Sydona felt light-headed and a bit puzzled by their exchange, but she smiled anyway. "It's all right, I understand," she said, even though she didn't really. Had this been Elena's idea from the very beginning, or was she only going along with Alestin's veiled suggestion now in order to please him? Was she generously sharing her lover with Sydona, or presenting her to him as a token of her affection? Her head was spinning, and not just from the drinks. It didn't matter, she decided, what Elena's intentions were. She wasn't simply a token to be passed around in whatever game these two were playing. She could take the initiative for herself.

Sydona stood and crossed the room to Alestin, who met her halfway, pulling her into his arms to kiss her. Although she was not short, she had to stretch her neck up to reach him, bending back and wrapping her arms about his shoulders as much to keep from falling as out of a desire to embrace. Her feeling of light-headedness increased, the blood pounding in her face, and she wondered if she was about to faint. That was often what ladies did in such situations in her books, allowing the authors to gracefully fade to black, but she would have felt most embarrassed and disappointed if she did. Fortunately, Alestin held her up, and though her legs trembled, she did not fall. He kissed with an intensity she had only imagined before, and it seemed to go on for a very long time before he finally drew back. She could feel his heart pounding, his breath quickening, and knew that it was out of desire for her - a heady feeling of power swept over her.

Still, she couldn't help glancing at Elena. The brown-haired girl was watching intently, her expression puzzling to Sydona. It might have been simple curiosity, but she thought she saw hurt there as well. Surely she had imagined that, though - Elena had made her intentions perfectly clear. Sydona turned back to Alestin. "I want to go upstairs," she surprised herself by saying. "To the bedroom. Please."

He laughed, and for a moment she wondered if she had said something wrong, but his eyes told her otherwise. "For such a modest young lady, you're quite forward when you know what you want," he told her, still grinning. "Very well - I'll take you up to my bedroom, but only since you said 'please.'" He offered her his arm, for all the world as if they were still at the ballroom, and escorted her to the staircase. Elena followed, as if out of lack of anything better to do.

The Talavera manor was very large and, at the present hour, quiet. The walls were decorated with portraits of illustrious ancestors, historical tableaux, serene landscapes. Many of the ancestors, she couldn't help but notice, shared Alestin's thick, dark hair and stunning violet eyes. Long carpets in patterns of faded purple and grey muffled their footsteps. Her host led her perhaps halfway down the long corridor, then stopped and opened one of the doors. "As requested," he told her, "the bedroom." He permitted the ladies to enter first, holding the door open for them both.

Alestin's bedroom was both more spacious and more simply decorated than Sydona had expected. The walls were panelled in dark red wood, the floor covered with somewhat threadbare antique gold carpets that matched the hangings on the bed. A marble-topped dressing-table and a sizeable armoire indicated that the owner of these quarters valued his appearance and wardrobe. There was also an armchair near the fireplace, and a writing desk, but these looked as if they were probably little-used. The windows looked out over a patio with a swimming pool, she noticed with astonishment as she moved further into the room.

Alestin shut the door behind them. "Now," he said, "I trust Elena will help in getting you out of that gown."

"How should I do that?" Elena said petulantly. "Mine's just as cumbersome, I won't be able to get close enough to reach."

Alestin gave a slight laugh. "As lovely as you both look, this new fashion seems to have its downsides. Very well, I suppose I can assist." With guidance from both ladies, he managed to help Sydona out of her gown and the considerable supporting structure beneath it, finally leaving her in her corset and petticoat. Sydona had thought having her shoulders exposed before was quite daring, but this was even more nerve-wracking. The tops of her breasts were displayed to his gaze, rosy with her blushing. It was almost a relief when he turned his attention to Elena, disrobing her more swiftly, perhaps out of a greater familiarity, or perhaps because he was simply now more accustomed to the new style of gown. Elena stepped gracefully out of her hoops, and Sydona was more than a little shocked to see that she wore lacy pantalettes instead of underskirts, and that her corset was cut low enough across her breasts that her nipples peeked out over the edge.  
"Very nice," Alestin told her, running his thumbs over those exposed nipples. "Are you sure you don't want to join in?"

"I already told you," she said, drawing away from his wandering hands. "I want to watch. Maybe, later, if you're very good, I'll join you. But maybe not." And with that, she flounced over to the leather armchair and, turning it so that it faced the bed, sat down, draping her long legs carelessly over one arm.

Alestin shrugged, and returned his attentions to Sydona, who stood nervously by the bed, uncertain what she ought to do. Gathering her courage, she pushed her hands under his jacket, sliding it off his broad shoulders. He let it fall to the floor, and began unbuttoning his waistcoat, and then his shirt. Sydona helped where she could, but mostly was too nervous - her hands were shaking too much to manage buttons. "Is this your first time?" he asked her kindly.

"N-no," she stammered, thinking fleetingly of Darion. "I've done this a few times."

From her seat, Elena smirked. "I'm shocked, Mlle. Trueblood! You feign maidenly virtue very well, but it seems in truth you're quite the little slut."

"I am not!" Sydona bristled.

"Well, I didn't mean it like it's a bad thing," Elena said with an idle wave of her hand, in a somewhat mollifying tone. "I only meant I wouldn't have guessed, that's all."

"Not a bad thing in the slightest," Alestin agreed. "I prefer a more experienced partner, actually. So much more enjoyable, don't you think?"

Sydona nodded, more nervous than ever now that it seemed Alestin would expect her to know what to do. "But you must tell me what you want," she blurted, with no idea where those words had come from, except a vague notion that in most of her novels, the hero was the one giving the orders.

It seemed to be an acceptable thing to say, for Alestin smiled. "Oh, is that the way you prefer it?" He took her by the shoulders and guided her firmly to sit at the edge of the bed. "Spread your legs," he told her, and Sydona immediately did as she was instructed, without thinking. He slid his hands up her thighs beneath her petticoat to pull off her stockings.

"Take that off her," Elena complained. "I can't see what you're doing."

"Lie back," Alestin ordered, "and lift your hips, so we can have this out of the way." Sydona did so, and a moment later her legs were exposed to the cool air. She had nothing beneath her petticoat, of course, and she could feel Alestin's gaze on her nakedness. A sudden, panicky thought crossed her mind - if he were to see her completely unclothed, he would surely be able to tell she'd borne a child. Her figure had fortunately stayed slender, but there were still marks from where her belly had stretched and swollen three times, and she dreaded what he - or Elena - might make of those. She was just deciding she would have to make sure she kept her corset on, when his mouth began moving slowly up her inner thigh, driving her worries out of her mind. She gave a little shriek and half sat up when he began to tongue her, the sensation was so sudden and unexpected. Elena's laughter made her blush more furiously and lie back down, however. Her hands clenched around fistfuls of the bed-covers, and her feet seemed to have developed a mind of their own, twitching and kicking out against her will. Alestin gripped her ankles firmly to still them, which only seemed to drive the twitching higher up her body until it reached her hips, where it settled and persisted stubbornly. She could hear unfamiliar sounds coming from her own throat, harsh, gasping cries that matched each stroke of his tongue, and she remembered how the maid had sounded as she'd sported with the coachman. This must have been what she was feeling! A strange sensation was building within her, a quivering tension she couldn't name, but that desperately needed to be released. "Please," she gasped, not knowing what she was asking for, only that he could give it to her.

"Oh, she said 'please' so nicely," Elena teased. "Finish her off, Alestin."

He raised his lips off Sydona long enough to retort. "She asked me to give the orders, not you." Then he resumed his efforts, this time adding his fingers to the mix, sliding one inside her. Sydona's hips jerked of their own volition and she cried out, not because it hurt but because it felt so wonderful. She hadn't known it was possible to feel this way - her books hadn't shown her, nor had her husband. A sudden spasm shook her body, and another, and the tension inside her gave way with a rush that shocked her with its intensity and left her trembling and gasping for breath. She wondered, embarrassed, if she had wet herself, the linens beneath her were so damp, but Alestin seemed unconcerned as he stood, smiling down at her. "Good girl," he told her, and began to unfasten his trousers. "Now," he said, as he drew out his manhood, which was thick enough to make her eyes widen, "turn around and bend over."

Sydona wondered if she would even be able to stand, her legs were still shaking so hard. Her feet touched the carpet gingerly, and she hung onto the bedpost for support, bending over from the hips. Her corset dug into the tops of her thighs a little, but it wasn't too uncomfortable. She was just relieved he hadn't asked her to remove it yet. Uneasily aware of Elena's gaze on them, and the way the girl's thighs were parted and her hand was moving lazily between them, she found it easier to shut her own eyes and pretend they were alone. Alestin's touch on her backside startled her at first, making her give a nervous laugh, and the others joined in. He adjusted her legs, moving them slightly further apart, and then without further warning pushed into her. Sydona's eyes flew open and she gripped the bedpost more firmly, but she was surprised to discover that despite his size, it was not painful. Rather the opposite, in fact… Each slow stroke startled her anew with its bliss. Her face was flushed from bending over, and her gasps were shallow as the corset made it difficult to breathe deeply, adding to her feeling of light-headedness. It all seemed like a dream, but such a lovely one that she would have been happy to sleep forever.

Her novels, with their annoying tendency to skip over these scenes, had given her no indication how long the act was likely to last when performed properly. As the next part in the books was normally the heroine awaking the following morning, she had a dim sense that 'all night' might not be out of the question, and wondered if she would be able to endure such treatment for hours at a time. Fortunately (or unfortunately, she wasn't sure) it wasn't terribly long before Alestin's pace quickened, and his breath took on a rasp, as if catching in his throat. She knew those sounds well enough to realize it couldn't endure much longer. In that respect, at least, he was not so different from her husband. She held onto the post with both hands as he drove himself into her more roughly, and gasped in time with him. It wasn't the same mysterious, throbbing tension she had felt earlier, but it was still an amazing sensation, and she was ever so slightly disappointed when he finally shuddered and clutched her hips to pull her as close to him as possible. A few final, hammering thrusts, and he groaned, coming to a standstill. A moment later he stepped back, drawing slowly out of her. She held her position, unsure what she should do, until Elena drawled languidly, "He's done, dear, you can stand up now."

Wisps of her fine hair falling out of the braids her maid had plaited so carefully, Sydona straightened, red-faced and trembling. Alestin had flopped down onto the footstool at Elena's feet, looking more than a little shaky himself. "Was that what you wanted?" he asked, and Sydona was fairly sure he wasn't talking to her.

"It was pleasant to watch," Elena said with a sigh, "but now you're all tired out."

"Only temporarily," he said, with a brief laugh. "I'll still be able to see to you, if that's what you were worried about."

"Don't trouble yourself," Elena sniffed. "I took care of myself already."

Sydona brushed her stray hair out of her face, feeling awkward. "It was very nice," she said, and immediately felt silly for saying so. But Alestin smiled, at least, and that made her feel a bit less childish.

"At any rate," Elena continued, as if she hadn't spoken, "we ought to be getting home, don't you think, Sydona?"

"I... suppose so," she said, though in truth she had expected to stay longer - she had no parents at home to worry about, though, and perhaps Elena was more anxious about her father than she had previously let on. "If... if you're ready to leave?"

"I will be," Elena said curtly, standing and straightening her pantalettes. She eyed the gowns on the floor with a moue of distaste. "Ugh, getting back into those things... I wish you could just call one of your mother's maids to help us, Alestin."

"I could," he said, "but I doubt you want the gossip that would follow. You'll just have to manage for yourselves." He seemed put out, and Sydona wondered whether she had done something wrong. She didn't think so, though - she rather thought that it was Elena who was behaving inappropriately this time.

Somehow the ladies reassembled their elaborate outfits, and though they might not have been presentable at Surryks any longer, they would at least pass muster on a quick inspection, or so Sydona thought. Alestin did not bother to put his clothing on again, but pulled on a velvet dressing gown instead. He sat in the chair Elena had recently vacated, looking cross and making little effort to hide it. He regained some of his manners, however, when they moved to depart. "Farewell," he told Sydona, kissing her hand graciously. "Thank you for your company this evening, Mlle. Trueblood, it was delightful."

"Thank you too, M. Talavera," she replied politely, as though they were at tea together and he had just passed her the sugar. She couldn't help blushing, however, when he smiled down at her and she remembered what they'd done together only a short while before. She stored the memories away carefully, knowing that she would return to them often.

Elena simply nodded a cold farewell. Alestin moved to kiss her on the cheek, but she turned away from him and flounced out the door. Sydona followed her, hoping that perhaps once they were alone Elena would explain why she was so cross. They descended the grand staircase in icy silence, and made their way to the door before Sydona realized they had no means of getting home without Alestin's carriage. Elena seemed unconcerned, however, and so Sydona continued to follow her out the doors and down the front steps into the chill night air.

"Elena," she said softly as they walked down the tree-lined drive, "how are we going to..."

"We'll get a hired carriage," Elena told her without looking back. "I'm not having his coach drive up to my father's house in any case, it wouldn't look proper at this hour of night."

"Oh, no... of course not." It seemed Elena had thought of everything - she must be well-practiced in deceiving her parents, Sydona thought cynically. "Did you enjoy yourself this evening?" she asked, emboldened.

Elena shrugged. "Well, you certainly did, at least." The words felt as though they were designed to cut, but Sydona felt no pain.

"Yes," she agreed coolly, "I did. Thanks to you setting everything up."

Still Elena refused to look at her. "You're more than welcome to him. He's a selfish ass anyhow."

Sydona reached out to take the other girl by the shoulder. "I don't want him," she said seriously. "I can't take him away from you, Elena."

"Because of your House? That hardly matters any longer..." Elena tugged her wrap more tightly around herself and turned to walk away once more.

"No," Sydona said, catching her again. "I can't, because I'm... I'm already married."

Even in the faint starlight, she could see Elena's eyes widen. "You are? You mean you're being... unfaithful? But you never said anything! You... you let me think you were some innocent maiden, fresh from the countryside..."

"I never said that!" Sydona bristled. "You just assumed! If you had kept in touch with me, you'd know I've been married for five years! Void, you might have seen the notices in the broadsheets when any of my three children were born!"

Elena looked, if possible, even more shocked. "Sydona, you're only my age! _Three_ children?"

"If you bothered to ask me anything, instead of just chattering about nonsense all the time, I'd have told you," Sydona snapped. "I thought you wanted to be friends, and I wanted you to like me... but all you really wanted was to put Alestin through some sort of test, wasn't it! And he failed, obviously. Was he supposed to refuse me and tell you how he could never lie with another woman because he loves you so much? You already knew that wasn't true, so what were you expecting, you stupid little girl?"

Elena's lower lip trembled at the sudden outburst. "I thought maybe he would... he would see how well I understand him. He would realize that I'm sophisticated too, not just the little girl he used to p-practice kissing with... It wasn't a test for him, it was for _me_. But I couldn't do it right. I should be able to not care who he fucks, to not get jealous... but I couldn't." And to Sydona's surprise she burst into tears, standing at the foot of the Talavera's driveway.

"Come on," Sydona said, feeling suddenly much, much older as she put her arm around Elena's shoulders. "Don't cry now. It's like you said earlier - he'll only bring you heartbreak. You can find someone much better, I'm sure, if that's what you want."

"I only want him," Elena sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with the edge of her wrap. "I've tried going with other gentlemen, but none of them make me feel the way he does. And I don't want to marry someone I don't love."

"No," Sydona agreed, "you don't. But if you love him, you have to talk to him about it. And do it honestly, not pretending to be disdainful and elegant and sophisticated. It's obvious he cares about you too, but he probably thinks you're indifferent to him, especially after tonight. And maybe he'll change his ways if you settle down together..."

"Maybe," Elena said, but she didn't sound convinced. "I'm such a fool," she sighed. Just then she noticed a cab drawing up at a house nearby, dropping off passengers. She waved to the driver, and he nodded, pulling up to where they stood a few moments later.

"I don't think you're a fool," Sydona told her quietly once they were safely embarked on their journey home. "It's got to be better to be with someone you love, even if they aren't perfect, even if they make you angry sometimes, than to feel ... empty inside."

"Is that how it is with you?" Elena asked almost shyly.

"It was," Sydona told her. "But not anymore. I suppose I can thank you for that much, anyway." She risked a little smile, and Elena smiled back.

Elena waved to her from the carriage window as Sydona descended at her husband's house. She walked slowly up the drive, feeling as though a hundred years had passed since she'd left earlier that evening. She knew something within her had changed, something she couldn't name, for it hadn't appeared in any of her books. It could have been power. She smiled to herself, and decided that the next evening she would gather her courage and invite that blond-haired coachman to her bedchamber.


End file.
